


Tops

by sarapunzel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Drunk Sex, M/M, Sabriel - Freeform, Top!Sam, samgabe - Freeform, top!gabe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-03
Updated: 2013-01-03
Packaged: 2017-11-23 11:41:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/621743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarapunzel/pseuds/sarapunzel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam and Gabriel are entangled in a perpetual struggle for dominance, and when alcohol joins the mix, the sex turns into somewhat of a competition.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tops

“You know what you are? You’re all bark and no bite.”

These were the words a heavily intoxicated and borderline belligerent Sam Winchester had uttered around an hour ago. He’d leaned across the beer-slick counter top at the corner pub, with narrowed eyes and a twitch of his jaw, and laid down the challenge. Now, Gabriel was well-versed in the art of double-dog dares and smack talk. He could read the stoniest poker face, drive a bargain so hard it would make your head spin, and unravel the most tightly-wound stiff neck with a single word or wink of his golden eye. Usually, if anyone was going to be goaded into a tizzy, it was Sam. The guy was just too soft, too easily broken. He was putty in Gabriel’s very capable, very earnest hands.

But tonight, Sam was on  _fire_.

Not literally, of course. Although Gabriel hadn’t written that totally out of the cards yet; Sam had downed enough alcohol to probably be considered flammable.

 

So it was with this burning bravado that he’d taken Gabriel by the shoulders, lifted him into his lap as easily as one might pick up a pillow, and grazed his teeth along the smooth skin of the angel’s neck. It was with this flaming impetus that he’d whispered lustily, “I’m tired of the bark. Gimme the bite,” then promptly set Gabriel back down, stood up, and fallen straight to the floor in a drunken, gangly heap.

It was undoubtedly a Very Good Thing that Gabriel still possessed the angelic powers necessary to mojo Sam back to their hotel room, because it would have looked even stranger to see a diminutive dude in a Bon Jovi T-shirt throwing the plaid-chested yeti over his shoulder and kicking through the double doors. Upon reflection, Gabe actually sort of regretted not doing exactly that. It would have been a truly cinematic tale for the other bar-goers to tell.

Still, missed opportunities for over-the-top heroism aside, Gabriel had to count his lucky stars that Sam hadn’t puked all over him yet. The kid was hammered, smashed, and properly plastered, but he was also a trooper. Sam Winchester was not the type to curl into the fetal position around the toilet and have someone hold his hair back while he vomited his soul into a porcelain head. No, not tonight. Sam was a man of his word, and he intended to deliver. Naturally, Gabriel was not one to turn down sex when it quite literally thrust itself into his face. So when he found himself nose-to-crotch with the Samsquatch himself, Gabriel had no other option but to simply accept the gift presented to him.

Besides, Sam had asked for a bite, and Gabriel was all too willing to oblige.

“Fuck, just do it,” Sam groaned, hips writhing so insistently that Gabriel struggled to unzip the hunter’s jeans. Finally, he decided that Sam’s obvious size advantage made it perfectly acceptable for Gabriel to cheat and use his powers to zap the offending pants into oblivion. Sam let out a hiss at the sudden assault of cool air on his bare skin, grasping at Gabriel’s hair to steer him to his cock. He was painfully hard and already panting, slick with sweat. Gabe liked Sam anyway he could get him, but he still had to take a second to appreciate just how very much he liked Sam this  _particular_  way.

The angel bent to pull Sam’s dick into his mouth, slowly, teasingly, and was rewarded with a sharp tug of his hair. Sam lifted his hips with a needy grunt, pushing up into the angel’s mouth. Gabe slurped lazily at the head, watching Sam’s face with a smug satisfaction. He loved to watch Sam fall to pieces, relinquish his control to the archangel above him—

But then the hunter suddenly bucked upward, thrusting his cock to the back of Gabriel’s throat, and the angel nearly gagged. Gabe stood up indignantly, staring down at the hunter, who was gazing back with a devilish smirk. “That’s just rude, Sammy.”

Sam shrugged. “So what are you gonna do to me?”

It wasn’t an apology. It was a challenge. “You want the bite, kiddo? Fine. No more bark,” Gabriel replied, snapping his fingers so that his entire outfit disappeared. “Take your shirt off, asshat.”

Before Sam had even dropped the sweat-and-beer soaked shirt over the side of the bed, Gabriel was pressing two fingers into his ass, having conjured some very handy mojo-lube. Sam shouted in surprise, but to his credit, he didn’t recoil at the intrusion. On the contrary, he wriggled against the angel’s fingers, staring at Gabriel with determination. If he was going to get fucked, he was going to be the one piloting the ride. “Hurry up,” he muttered.

“Are you sure—?”

“Fuck, yes.”

“As you wish,” Gabe replied, and, guiding his dick to Sam’s tight hole, pushed in roughly. Sam threw his head back against the cheap hotel bed sheets, one arm reaching back to grip the flimsy headboard.

“Move, Gabe, come on. Don’t be a pussy. Fuck me like a man,” Sam murmured, eyes still clenched shut. Gabe raised an eyebrow and dug his fingernails into the hunter’s hips.

“I can do better than that,” Gabriel mumbled back, and shoved into Sam with enough force to slide the hunter several inches up the bed. “I’m not a man, Sammy. I’m an angel.”

“Then fuck me like an angel.”

So Gabe hooked the hunter’s knees over his elbows and slammed into him, striking deep and hard. Sam moaned, his free hand trailing down to touch himself. But Gabriel growled his disapproval and swatted Sam’s hand away. “Nope. I’m gonna fuck you till you come, and you’re not gonna do a damn thing.”

“Is th-that a threat?” Sam managed to stutter between jostling, deliberate thrusts. Gabe hoped Sam wasn’t prone to motion sickness.

“It’s a fucking promise.”

Gabriel drilled into Sam, his nails cutting flushed little half-moons into the hunter’s thighs, hips, and stomach. All the while, Sam fought for control, bucking against Gabriel’s every thrust, murmuring come-ons and gimme-mores amid the scattered moans and cries. “Come on, Gabe.  _Shit_. You can fuck harder than this. You’re not even breakin’ a sweat.”

Gabriel silenced this quip with a sharp bite to Sam’s left thigh. “You like this, don’t you, Sam? You like being my little bitch?”

“Who’re you—ahhh,  _fuck_ —who’re you callin’ little, Shorty?”

_Low blow_ , Gabe thought, and fucked into Sam hard, all semblance of gentleness abandoned. He knew when he’d found it, he’d struck that part of Sam that made the hunter whine like a wounded animal, made him grind his teeth and beg for more, edging that line between too-much and not-enough. Sensing the chink in the hunter’s armor, Gabriel pushed into him again and again, angling himself perfectly to hit that spot every time. He knew Sam’s every telling motion; he could read his gigantic body like a pornographic novel. When Sam began to breathe heavily and clench and release his free hand in the bed sheets in time to Gabriel’s rhythm, the angel knew it was over. He knew he’d won.

“You’re gonna come all over yourself like a fucking slut, aren’t you?” Gabe gloated, his balls slamming against the hunter’s ass as he buried himself deep inside. As wrecked as he was, Sam’s eyes opened, just for a moment, and a grin flickered across his face. The very next second, Gabe felt the hunter’s ass tighten up around his cock, and he let out a startled shout. “Fuck!”

“Fucking fill me up, Gabe. I wanna feel you come, I want proof that I won.”

And against all protest, Gabriel came, hard. He bellowed, unable to be properly furious in the face of such fantastic pleasure. But Sam’s victory was short-lived, as Gabriel swiftly began to jerk him off, still sheathed deep inside the hunter’s ass. After only a few moments, Sam was coming, grasping the headboard so forcefully that Gabe heard it crack. He cried out, “Ahh— Gabriel!” and then it was done.

The afterglow was evanescent, to put it romantically; Sam gave the angel one last smirk, mumbled “I win”, and then dropped off to sleep, still streaked with his own come. Gabriel managed to pull out and clean up the scene as best he could, resisting the urge to take damning photographic souvenirs, and then wriggled into the flushed, sweat-sticky warmth of Sam’s body to wait for morning.

Somehow, Gabe had an inkling that Sam would be considerably less cavalier when he awoke, hungover and naked and definitely achy. Gabriel smiled at the thought; if there was one thing he enjoyed even more than fucking Sam into a sex-coma, it was watching Sam wake up afterward.


End file.
